


A Night With The ‘Bot

by ialpiriel



Series: Sole Survivor Prof [4]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Automatron DLC, F/F, Face-Sitting, Nonverbal Communication, Nonverbal Main Character, Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6387475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ialpiriel/pseuds/ialpiriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sosu gets off by sorta sitting on ada’s face. “sorta” only because faces are nebulous things on robots</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night With The ‘Bot

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on the [fallout kink meme](http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/7011.html?thread=18869347#t18869347)

Prof taps her fingers against the edge of the terminal keyboard, chews her bottom lip, squints at Ada. Ada doesn’t really move, just tips her head, tests servos.

“Ma’am?” Ada asks, as Prof continues to not move, just _consider_. She tips her head--millimeters one way, then the other, no need to but maybe picked it up somewhere from a human.

Prof shakes her head, turns her back to Ada, surveys who in Sanctuary can see them.

Most of the settlers are over in the garden, hidden behind the bushes. There might be one that can see them, but he’s facing the other way, and really bad at signing, and won’t be able to see past her and the bushes anyway.

Prof turns back around. Ada is still where she was, hasn’t moved. She digs out her pad of paper.

HOW DOES THE LASER WORK?????? she writes, holds it up, Ada whirrs, the aperture on her visual sensor dilates and contracts. After she’s sure Ada read the paper, she turns it back around, scribbles a diagram--something the shape of a corn kernel, two circles in it, and the na scribbly cross over the whole thing, and a zig-zaggy corona around lal of _that_. She draws an arrow at the scribbly cross, labels it EXCESS POWER??????? HURT TO TOUCH?????

“It would cause no harm until discharge,” Ada replies, swings her arms as she steps off the platform. Tone is informative, no opinion.

Prof taps her pencil against her chin, pauses to chew the eraser and squint at Ada’s face. She flips her page over, writes again. HOLD CHARGE HOW LONG?

“Five to ten minutes, ma’am, depending on circumstances and active power levels. Are you considering upgrades?” Ada shifts her weight back onto one foot, makes a miniscule movement back toward the workstation. Prof flicks one hand, gestures at Ada to cancel her action.

Prof crosses her arm over her chest, rests her other elbow on her wrist, juts her chin and taps at it with her fingers. She drops her hand after a moment, scribbles, HAS ANYONE EVER SAT ON YOUR FACE?

“No, ma’am,” Ada replies without missing a beat. “I was primarily used for navigational and defense purposes in the caravan.”

Prof tosses her elbow up on top of the terminal, leans her weight on it. Taps at her cheekbones with her fingers.

DO YOU WANT TO? she writes next.

Ada stays silent for a long minute, whirrs and creaks as she considers Prof, who has her overshirt tied around her waist, her tank top shoved haphazardly into her waistband, her pants held up with a belt three sizes too big with a new hole cut into it so it actually fits. Her visual sensor dilates, contracts, dilates again. There’s a flare of light in the depths of her laser capacitor. Prof watches her back, eyes half-closed, rolls her packet of Day Tripper pills in one hand.

“I have no opinion on the matter,” Ada finally says.

BC I’M INTERESTED. Prof wags her pad of paper back and forth ,starts chewing on her pencil eraser.

Ada considers again, longer this time, tips her head first one way, then the other, clicks her claw and swings her new drill around a bit while she does.

“How would you propose we achieve this coupling? My ability to lie prone is limited, as is my ability to lift you.”

Prof considers for a moment, flips to a new page in her pad. She takes a moment to draw, and when she turns around, the diagram is clear.

A Prof--labelles ME--made of rectangles sits on a square labeled DESK, legs at right angles, hanging over the edge of the DESK. A similarly boxy Ada--YOU--is on one knee in front of the DESK and the ME, her “face” level with ME’s crotch.

Ada considers for a moment, 

“Certainly,” Ada agrees. She nods, clanks off toward the watchtower at the top of the hill.

***

Ada lifts the terminal, deposits it out on the counter without a problem. Prof levers herself onto the desk, sheds her leather coat--tosses it on top of a filing cabinet--and her overshirt--folds it up and slides it under her ass as she kicks the chair away, across the room, so it bumps into the front of the cabinet. She’s unbuttoning her pants when Ada steps back through the doorway. She doesn’t look up as Ada clanks in front of her, groans to a halt a step away. She shifts from foot to foot, and Prof can see it even without looking up, hear the soft wheeze of barely-active hydraulics.

Prof feels the heat rising in her cheeks, the twitch in her thigh, the floaty feeling through her wrists and hands like she’s eighteen and falling into bed with someone for the first time. She undoes her belt, slides it loose, tosses it onto her coat. Stretches forward enough to get one foot on the floor, lift her ass so she can get her pants off. Leaves ‘em crumpled on the floor, on top of her boots, kicks the mess back under the desk where it will be out of the way. She glances up at Ada, doesn’t hold eye contact, look away, grinning and feeling excitement spike up under her ribcage

Ada drops to one knee, as Prof peels off her boxers, wads them up and leaves them on the desk under her hand. Prof leans back on her hands, tips her head back so she's staring at the ceiling as Ada hooks her claw-hand under one of her thighs, digs the tip of her drill-hand into the floor so it’s out of the way.

“If you would prefer to cease this activity at any time, please indicate such.”

Prof runs one hand back over Ada’s faceplate, hooks her fingers on the filed edge of her faceplate, pulls her forward. The hum picks up, and Prfo inhales sharply, sucks air between her teeth as the lens and focuser of Ada’s laser beam comes in contact with her clit. She grinds forward, as Ada holds still, bites her lip as she pulls back again. Ada allows Prof whatever freedom of movement she wants, leans in when pulled, leans back when Prof does.

Prof’s breathing is elevated, faster, deeper, her pulse beating fast, when she reaches down, circles one finger on the lens, taps the other three on the side of the focuser a half second later. 

Ada begins charging, and Prof leans in, jerks her hips, grabs onto Ada’s faceplate with both hands to hold her where she is, even as the extra energy begins to collect on her face.

And god, god, fuck, fuck, Ada’s face is warm, verging over to hot, a heavy buzz that nearly hurts, so she leans in, pulls back, flexes and clenches until shes going over the edge, holds herself still as her toes curl and she gasps, feels herself pulse around nothing, the edges of Ada’s faceplate digging into her fingers, claw leaving marks in the back of her thigh, all of Ada’s hard edge’s digging into her skin now fading away as she rides Ada’s face through it. Bumps her clit against the lens again--hot to the touch, now, and she jerks back with a squeak--tips over the edge again, whines from deep in her chest as the heat on the insides of her thighs, the buzz of Ada’s faceplate, the dig of Ada’s edges into her skin, _everything_ gets to be _too much_.

She plants her hand on Ada’s forehead, pushes back. Ada follows without protest.

“Good,” Prof signs, breathes in and out, in and out, in and out, keeps her eyes closed. Signs again, shoulders loose, Hands wide, “Good.”

***

SUNBURN. Prof holds up her pad of paper as Ada steps through the door, word written in big block letters. She has her legs spread, sitting at the very edge of her seat, her forehead pressed into the top of the desk and her arm cradling it.

“A...sunburn,” Ada replies, grinds to a halt.

Prof flips back two pages without looking at her pad of paper, slips her finger over it until she finds her scribbles diagram of the laser. She taps it with one finger, then drops her pad to her desk.

I apologize, ma’am, I was not aware of this possibility.”

Prof scrabbles for her pencil and pad of paper, only raises her head long enough to flip to the right page and write, before holding the pad up and dropping her forehead back to the desk.

WOULD DO IT AGAIN ;)


End file.
